Page 10 of Bourbon Wishes (Wine Country Alphas #3)

Constance

B y the time we make it to Della's to pick up my car, we're already late to work, and I'm frazzled. Bastian is cool as a cucumber, actually grinning beside me. I expect some self-satisfied comment as he helps me into my car, but there isn't one.

He just meets my gaze, his suspiciously soft.

"Behave today, baby."

"I always behave," I grumble.

His smirk grows before he shakes his head. "We both know that's a damn lie." He doesn't give me time to object to his revisionist history of my impeccable behavior before he closes my door. "I'll see you this afternoon."

I immediately roll my window down, frowning at him. "What do you mean, you'll see me this afternoon? We're going to the same place."

"We aren't. Trystan and I have a meeting in Santa Barbara this morning. We're looking at the distillery there."

"Oh." My brows furrow. I forgot all about the meeting. It's been on his schedule for weeks. They're considering partnering with the distillery for their new craft gin, one exclusive to this region. I blame him for me not remembering. My mind is currently goo, kind of like my legs.

"We'll be back by mid-afternoon."

"Take pictures," I order.

"We don't need them. I'll remember where everything is located."

"I'm not talking about the layout." I roll my eyes at him, though I'm not really surprised he'll have the place memorized before they leave. His mind is a terrifying weapon. "I mean, of the two of you, on a road trip. I need them for social media."

He eyes me levelly.

"You agreed to let me share snippets of you guys running the vineyard. This is part of it."

"I seem to recall agreeing to let you share snippets of them doing their jobs. I do not recall agreeing to play along."

"Yeah, well, you should have read the fine print.

You're part of the family, and you're the heart of the vineyard.

I need shots of you, too." He opens his mouth to argue, but I cut him off with a hard glare.

"Do you want me to catapult the vineyard to social media stardom or not? If so, bring me the photos, Bastian."

"Fine," he mutters, shaking his head. "But we're going to revisit this conversation later."

"No, we're not. You agreed. Too late to back out now." I beam up at him. "But feel free to complain about it. I know that makes your shriveled heart happy."

"That's one."

"One what?"

"Strike."

"So we're counting now? Because I'm probably already at one thousand if you want to get technical." I smirk at him. "But sure, reset the strike clock. I can inch it right back up there, no problem."

"Big words for a woman who doesn't know what happens when I get to three." He quirks a brow at me, his gaze running down my body.

My core clenches. My heart races. Warning bells alarm in the back of my mind. "Uh, what happens when you get to three?"

"I fuck you over my desk with your panties stuffed in your mouth to keep you quiet," he says like he's giving me the weather report. And then he taps the side of my car before stepping away. "Behave today."

"Bastian!" I shove my head all the way out of the window, mildly alarmed that he actually means it. "No. Get back here!"

His wicked laugh drifts back to me, and damn…that laugh is deadly. He needs to use it more.

"You are not fucking me at work!" I shout to his retreating back.

"We'll see."

I gape after him…and then slink down in my seat when I see Diego standing in the window of the restaurant, watching us.

Crap. Did he hear me shouting about Bastian fucking me at work?

At this point, half the dang town probably knows what we did in the parking lot last night.

I'm pretty sure that muddy bundle of fabric a few spots over is what's left of my Spanx.

I drop my head back against the headrest, groaning up at the ceiling. What have I gotten myself into?

Yesterday, I was convinced Bastian hated me.

And then he tricked me into dinner just because he was jealous.

Somehow, that ended up with me in his bed—after I was sprawled across both the side of his truck and the top of his freaking island, mind you.

And somewhere in there, he completely blew my world apart by informing me, oh so casually, that last night was his first time.

Bastian Grayson, also known as Satan in a Suit, gave me his virginity.

Either I died yesterday, and this is some dirty version of heaven…or this is reality, and I'm in way, way over my head with my cranky-as-hell boss.

I'm not entirely sure which I want to be true. I'm wild about him, yes. But he and I are complete opposites. We're not oil and water. We're fire and ice. When we collide, we cause literal violent eruptions, the kind that leave behind scars.

Since his entire family works at the vineyard, the absolute last thing I want is to become a problem that fractures the entire operation right down the middle and scars what they've built.

I'm terrified that's exactly what will happen if things go badly between us.

I'll have to leave, and half of his family will be pissed at him about it.

Or he'll be hurt, and half of his cousins will be pissed at me over it.

Either is a nightmare scenario…but so is losing Bastian now that I've had some little piece of him.

He's exactly as infuriating as ever, but he's also incredible.

No one has ever looked at me the way he does.

No one has ever understood me the way he does.

And no one has ever set my entire world on fire the way he does.

"I'm so screwed," I whisper.

The best thing I can do—maybe the only thing at this point—is draw a line in the sand. If we're going to do this, it can't be at work. It has to be kept separate.

Somehow, I doubt Bastian will see it that way, though. He'll fight me every step of the way. And dammit all, he'll probably win because I'm weak for him. I've been weak for him for months, and I really don't see that changing anytime soon.

He was right about me. I misbehave and talk back and push his buttons just because I want him to crack.

I want him to push back. And some tiny part of me wants to submit, not to just anyone, but to him.

Because, God help me, he's the only one I've ever found who feels like they might deserve those parts of me I hold in reserve.

The complicated man is seriously complicating my whole life.

" I heard a rumor," Haven says, sailing into my office an hour before lunch. She drops into a chair across from my desk without waiting for an invitation, her big doe eyes locked on my face like she's on the hunt for the Holy Grail and I'm the last keeper of that secret.

"He's not even at the office today, so I have no idea what he's done now," I murmur, trying to play it cool.

I'm lying through my teeth, though. Despite Bastian's objections, he's been sending me photos all morning.

And he might actually have a sense of humor lodged somewhere in that arrogant, control-freak body of his, because every single one of them looks like Trystan is having the best day of his life, while Bastian would rather be walking through literal fire.

Social media is going to eat those photos up with a spoon, especially when they see Bastian's brooding glower juxtaposed against Trystan's devil-may-care smirk. I'm not at all jealous at the thought of women swooning over him.

I'm also full of shit.

"So you're telling me that you weren't spotted leaving his place first thing this morning in that little black dress we bought at Zahara's last month?" Haven arches a brow at me, tucking strands of mahogany hair behind her ears. "Because Lucy says different."

Well, crap.

"Huh. Pregnancy brain must be playing tricks on her," I lie like the wind. "Maybe she needs glasses."

"Oh my god!" Haven's mouth falls open in shock. "You did spend the night with him!"

I groan, burying my face in my hands. I need to learn to lie better.

"You're sleeping with Bastian!" she practically shouts.

"Keep your voice down," I hiss, sending a frantic glance toward the door. The last thing I need is for every single one of his cousins to find out. They'll never leave me the hell alone if they know.

"Constance Maverick," she says, leaning back in her chair with a smirk. "Are you embarrassed that you got caught doing the walk of shame?"

"What?" I scrunch up my face at her. "No. It wasn't a walk of shame because I'm not in the least ashamed. I'm just having nightmares about the vineyard turning into a warzone." I gulp at the possibility. "Especially since he wouldn't let me quit."

"You tried to quit?" Haven squeaks in outrage. "What the fuck?"

"We slept together," I whisper-hiss. "I can't keep working for him. What if it doesn't work out? It'll be all kinds of awkward for everyone."

"Pfft. In case you haven't noticed, most of the people here are sleeping with other people also employed here. You and Bastian are not that different."

"They're all married, Haven. Of course they're sleeping together."

"My parents weren't married when they started sleeping together," she says…and she may have me there.

"That's different."

"How is that different? It's literally the same thing."

"Is not," I mumble.

Haven eyes me silently for a moment. "You really like him, don't you?"

I shrug, avoiding her gaze.

"I know you aren't actually afraid of turning this place into a warzone. It's basically one of those all-day, every-day anyway. You've met my idiot cousins. They argue all the time, usually about the dumbest stuff on the planet. So what are you so worried about?"

I bite my lip, hesitant to tell her…but who the hell else am I going to talk to about this if not her? All of my friends in town are related to him, either by blood or marriage. Damn. I need more friends.

"He was a virgin too," I whisper.

"And he didn't do it right? Virgin sex is supposed to be awkward."